


What could come of an open window?

by Closeted_Bookworm



Series: MCYT Urban Mythology [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Fluff, Gen, Humorous misunderstandings, Hybrid!Fundy, Secrets, Vampire!Dream, and revealing them, the boys are both observant and oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:34:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28926615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Closeted_Bookworm/pseuds/Closeted_Bookworm
Summary: Fundy's got a secret. Dream's got one too. People are difficult.Two guys, an empty water bottle, a moonlit garden, and a late-night visit.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Floris | Fundy
Series: MCYT Urban Mythology [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2115690
Comments: 9
Kudos: 84





	What could come of an open window?

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of my Urban Mythology AU! They're all pretty much stand-alone, but check out the others if you want more of this universe :)

Fundy liked his life. Truly, he did. But sometimes, like now, in the process of preventing his newest houseplant from strangling him, he really wished he hadn’t been born. He’d never asked for whatever whack brand of magic his genetics had given him. He angrily unwound the vine from his neck and shoved it roughly back into its pot, ignoring the way the leaves refused to bruise and the way the thin stems curled lovingly around his fingers. 

He did still appreciate the plants. Sending them was how his mother, a fae, tried to show she missed him, and they were usually accompanied by a basket of fruit from his dryad dad’s apple tree. It was nice they weren’t completely absent from his life since visiting him was all but impossible. And despite his mixed feelings about it, he was still an amalgamation of nature magic and thus drew power from the occasionally infuriating sacks of chlorophyll. So he kept them around. 

His small apartment balcony was a veritable jungle at this point, cluttered with pots and planters of varying shapes and sizes that housed everything from a row of sad overcrowded daisies to a two-year-old Hungarian Fly-eating Fig his mom had dug up who-knows-where. The air was a mess of clashing odors and dangling leaves from the taller specimens, and he’d become something of a honeybee hotspot. 

His more unusual plants also attracted faeries, though he tried to discourage them from returning so the neighbors wouldn’t complain. Plus they liked to steal his basil, which was unforgivable in his eyes. They ranged in size from no bigger than a thimble to as high as his waist, and the vast majority were insufferable pests. 

The only ones he would tolerate were the quiet ones, usually the nocturnal variants that took after moths and fireflies. They only came at night, which coincidentally was Fundy’s favorite time to be out as well. His magic was less active without the sunlight, so the plants were less likely to try and wrap him up in a leafy cocoon and he could recharge and unwind in peace. 

He liked to drop his glamor and sit on the concrete with his legs crossed and his eyes closed, ears exposed to the cool air and swiveling back and forth to catch flickers of noise from the night around him. The roof of plants over his head hid his swishing tail from prying eyes, and the faeries wouldn’t give him away. As vicious and obnoxious as some of them could be, they still knew where to draw the line. 

He learned to identify different insects just by their sounds, and his neighbors by their voices. He didn’t usually _try_ to eavesdrop, but he didn’t exactly prevent it either. He was very invested in the drama going on in the apartment upstairs. A woman lived there who brought two different men back on a regular basis, and was very fond of long, sappy conversations under the starlight on the balcony, conveniently within earshot. He found it hilarious how she used the exact same lines on both guys, and was looking forward to the day one of them found out. He hoped he’d be able to hear that conversation. 

The rooms to his left were also a source of great interest to him. He knew a man lived there alone, named Dream if he remembered correctly from the day he moved in. He had a nice habit of leaving his bedroom window open, and his voice floated easily to Fundy’s attentive ears. With all the phone conversations he overheard, one-sided or not, it was easy to deduce he was a vampire. 

He didn’t really have a problem with that, Dream clearly wasn’t a mean-spirited person, but he also wasn’t exactly eager to run into him again. He wasn’t sure how big of a sphere the “don’t eat friends” thing he seemed to have going on included, but it probably didn’t expand to the next door neighbor he met once.

Unfortunately, he didn’t really get a say on when their next interaction happened. He was minding his business, watering his plants under the moonlight as wind rustled through the stems, when someone knocked on his apartment door. He tried to ignore it, it was past midnight after all, but whoever it was just kept knocking. He sighed and set the watering can down, pulling up his glamor and heading for the door. Whatever this was better be urgent.

He pulled open the door. Dream was behind it, grinning disarmingly and carrying an empty water bottle. He froze for a moment, fight or flight response triggering, but recovered quickly and smiled welcomingly. His neighbor was wearing contacts, presumably to hide the red eyes that would give him away as an unnatural, and he had learned enough about vampires to know he would need to take them out before trying any magical hypnosis. 

“What brings you here at this time of night?” he asked, careful to keep any suspicion out of his tone. 

“I was wondering if you had any milk I could borrow,” Dream responded, holding up the bottle. “I ran out and figured you were up because I could s- hear you gardening.”

Fundy narrowed his eyes. He was going to say something else. Because he could what? A butterfly fluttered in his stomach. Was he visible from the window? Had Dream caught him with his glamor down? Did he have some secret ability Fundy didn’t know of?

He wished he knew more about vampires. His parents had taught him about the hypnosis and need for eye contact because it was fairly common knowledge among unnaturals and was a good piece of survival advice, and of course he knew about the blood drinking, but beyond that he was in the dark. They historically had a lot of beef with werewolves. Did they have friendly relationships with nature spirits? 

Either way, he really didn’t want to let this man into his apartment. So he took the easy way out. “Give me the bottle, I’ll go get some for you,” he offered, pointedly not moving out of the doorway. Dream handed it over, and he quickly shut the door in his neighbor’s face. He leaned back against it with a scowl and tried to calm his beating heart. Get milk, hand it over, say goodbye, and go back to avoiding him. Easy peasy.

* * *

Dream waited outside the door to Fundy’s apartment, mentally kicking himself. He was such an idiot. Why did he think this was a good idea? He didn’t need milk, he just wanted a reason for his neighbor to invite him in. He groaned and slouched against the wall by the door frame. And _why_ had he almost said that? Why did he think a good way to tell him he was an unnatural too would be to say he could _smell_ him gardening? So _stupid_. He should’ve just been upfront about this whole thing. 

He’d known Fundy was some sort of unnatural for a long time, since about a month after his neighbor moved in. He’d been extremely vigilant about keeping his glamor up during that early period, unsure about the new environment, but eventually he’d relaxed and that’s when Dream started to catch on. Fundy’s scent lingered in the hallway outside his apartment and wafted over to Dream’s through the open window, and it hadn’t taken him long to discover who the source of it was and what it meant. 

Fundy’s smell was odd, though. It was soft and sweet and fresh, like the air after rain, which he’d come to associate with dryads, but he didn’t act like one. If he was a full dryad and was bonded to one of his houseplants, he wouldn’t be able to leave his balcony for longer than a half hour, let alone go for daily eight hour shifts at work. It was also sometimes layered over with something wilder, which shouldn’t be happening. A person’s scent didn’t usually fluctuate. 

If he didn’t know better, he would’ve said Fundy was part werewolf, but he’d tossed out that theory very early on. Fundy had no issues with moonlight. But the smell was too similar to dog for it to be related to the dryad smell. He had no idea what it was. 

Which had led to his visit tonight. The curiosity had been eating at him for weeks, he had to know. So he’d resolved to let Fundy in on the secret side of his own life in an effort to get to know him better. Who knows, maybe he’d even get a back-up spotting partner out of it for when he needed to go hunting. He’d love to have another unnatural friend in the building. 

But that had backfired spectacularly, and now he was left sitting outside the apartment wallowing in his own awkwardness and feeling discouraged. Fundy clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Could he still fix this situation?

He straightened up as Fundy yanked open the door with the filled bottle of milk in hand, refusing to make eye contact. 

“Here,” he said shortly, pressing it into his hands and reluctantly looking up at him. Oh, he’d really messed this up. Fundy seemed downright scared of him. He chugged forward anyway, trying to resolve the tension. 

“Look,” he said sheepishly, “I kind of… wanted to talk to you about something else? If you’ve got a minute?”

“I really don’t, sorry. If you’ll excuse me-” He started to close the door. 

Dream shut his eyes and blurted, “I’m a vampire.” There. Band-aid ripped off. He hesitantly opened his eyes to see Fundy staring at him with a conflicted look on his face, torn between letting him in after the show of trust and slamming the door in his face again. Dream smiled uncomfortably. Time for step two. “Us unnaturals gotta stick together, right?”

Fundy’s eyes widened. He glanced up and down the hallway nervously, then let him in. Thank goodness. He led Dream to the living room and practically shoved him into a chair. 

“How did you know?” he asked, straight to the point. No doubt he was worried other people had found out. 

“It’s because I’m a vampire,” Dream admitted. “I can smell it on you. I can sense most other unnaturals. I promise I haven’t told anyone.” That was true. He hadn’t even told George, though he’d certainly like to. Keeping secrets made him antsy. 

Fundy slumped in relief. “How long have you known?” he questioned resignedly. 

“Since a month after you moved in. I can smell it when you’re out on your balcony. It’s nice, you smell like clean earth and the air before a thunderstorm.”

His neighbor didn’t seem to know what to think of that compliment. His cheeks were red, though, and to Dream’s surprise he started to chuckle. It quickly devolved into a full blown guffaw as he buried his head in his hands and shook. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked, confused and not sure if he should feel offended. 

“Because it’s a two-way street,” Fundy gasped. “Here we were both tiptoeing around each other and it turns out that both of us already knew!”

It clicked, and the hilarity of the moment struck him too. “You knew I was a vampire?”

“You really should close your window when you’re on the phone, I can hear everything,” Fundy told him.

Dream’s cheeks were turning red too, and he joined Fundy in laughing. He was an even bigger idiot than he thought he was. 

“Okay,” he got out after they’d recovered. “You’ve got a leg up on me now. You know I’m a vampire, but I still don’t know exactly what you are. I’ve gathered you’re at least part nature spirit, but what’s the canine scent I keep getting?”

“I’m half dryad, half fae,” Fundy explained. “Genetics had no idea what to do with me, so this is what it decided on.” He dropped his glamor, revealing two fox ears as red as his hair and the bushy tail swept around him on the armchair. “You were smelling fox.”

Dream’s jaw dropped. “That’s incredible!” he gushed. “How much magic did you end up with?”

“Pretty much just plant-related stuff, but I luckily inherited my mom’s ability to put up a glamor and the fox bits give me really good hearing.”

The two chatted for almost an hour, comparing abilities and talking about their experiences. Talking with Fundy was a type of therapy Dream didn’t know he needed. Fellow vampire Techno was never the ‘feelings’ type of person, and Bad’s demon life had been so different from his own (not to mention _longer_ ) that he couldn’t empathize very well. But Fundy had needed to adjust to a mostly human society much like he had. 

The two exchanged phone numbers and promised to visit more often, then bid each other goodnight and parted ways.

Fundy was so excited he was practically buzzing. The only other unnaturals he knew before Dream were his parents and their friends, but now he had a friend right next door. Plus he’d told Fundy that he’d be able to introduce him to others. He couldn’t wait.

**Author's Note:**

> the comments fuel my indescribable urge to consume ungodly amounts of chocolate and barf words onto paper. feed me I beg of you.


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